The Golden Ritual
The shuttle snapped against the heddle with a sound like a dry bone breaking, and Elias Thorne did not flinch, only stared at the fraying end of the thread as it hung limp in the air. He was thirty-two years old, a master weaver in the Guild of Saint Jude, and his hands were trembling so violently that he could barely steady the frame. The commission before him was the "Golden Ritual," a...
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